Sailing: A Collection of Oneshots
by DaughterOfTigris
Summary: This story is a collection of separate oneshots from The Hunger Games. Not all of them are in canon, and some are in an AU/UA, but they will be the strangest ships your mind can conceive and exactly 500 words. Not all oneshots are romantic (friendship instead) or have happy endings. I don't own The Hunger Games. Rated T. Latest Chapter: Cato/District Male (HC)
1. Anytime

The dark tone of her skin and hair stood out as she walked amongst the forest green, ever so gracefully, delicately, as she scampered up a tree, an attempt to get as far away from some tracker jackers as possible, but stopped suddenly.

The other girl tiptoed around the forest, two bumps on her face from some tracker jackers. She bended down, picked up some dock leaves, held them up to her mouth as if to chew but faltered, instead just rubbed.

They both flinched when their eyes met, one looked down, one looked up. Seeing a girl their age, about 12. A small smile from both of them as they acknowledged each other.

"I'm Rue, District 11," the one in the tree said.

"I'm Prim, District 12," the one below replied.

"Allies?" They asked simultaneously and grinned.

"You're using dock?"

"Of course. For the tracker jacker stings."

"You should chew them up first."

Prim made a face at her new ally's suggestion. "Ew," she giggled.

Rue jumped from the tree lightly. She barely made a sound as she landed, Prim noticed. Rue plucked some leaves, chewed them tenderly and placed them on her friend's stings.

"Thank you."

"Anytime," and she meant it.

"Thank you for warning me earlier today as well. I'd have more of these," she pointed to the stings, "if you hadn't."

"I was happy to. So how did you get that 7 in training?"

"Oh, just a little healing. You didn't do so bad yourself."

"I was surprised the Gamemakers found what I did impressive. I just jumped around in the rafters."

She let out a little gasp. "That's dangerous! You could've gotten hurt!"

"Well you could've healed me," she pointed out with a sly smile.

They both giggled and exchanged more friendly chatter.

"So anyone at home?"

"Just Mother and Katniss," Prim recalled. "She tried to volunteer but it was too late. What about you?"

"I have a large family," a pause. "But none even tried to volunteer."

"Well if they did, we wouldn't be friends," Prim replied easily, but she felt awkward when she said it. She had felt... awkward ever since the dark haired girl had lightly walked to the table while she did plant identification during training. Prim had shifted over and left, had felt a tug in her chest as she did. She had wanted to introduce herself, get to know her, and never got the chance before the games. But fate and luck had their ways and they had bumped into each other.

Darkness came, quicker than they thought as they talked all afternoon after Rue helped Prim into the tree.

"I have a sleeping bag, Rue."

Her cheeks turned red at the thought of sleep with Prim, but survival won out and she snuggled in, strapping the bag to a sturdy branch.

"Thank you."

"Anytime," she replied, mirroring Rue's response earlier during the day as they both fell into sleep, unaware of their arms, which they had unconsciously linked.


	2. Together

Watching the three hour long summary of what happened was a living hell. They watched me kill _her_ , my love in the arena. No, not only in the arena. I loved _her_ since _she_ volunteered.

I won't, don't, I can't call _her_ by _her_ name anymore. I can't take it.

 _She_ begged me to finish _her_ off so I could win. And I did. Perhaps it was the Academy training, or the "tough boy" facade that unconsciously took over my body, which usually took pure luck to restrain. But my bucket o' luck ran out fighting Clove for the final two spots, who knew something was off as soon as I accepted _her_ into the Careers to hunt down Peeta. We went into a fight to the death which I should've won easily. I'm a better fighter overall, but she knew my weaknesses. Thankfully, I had luck on my side, and was able to off her.

Guess I wasn't able to fill the bucket of experience before my bucket of luck ran out, but that's alright.

I just need to stay alive until I get this all recorded, then the poison'll work its magic. Perhaps someone will listen to this when Panem finally collapses and they'll realize that I wasn't really the facade I put on for the Capitol.

Hopefully.

Anyways, after I killed Clove -they portrayed her as my love interest, but she really wasn't. Just clingy and desperate, but a ruthless killer- only we were left.

I can remember _her_ last words.

"Catocat... You deserve to live. I don't. I killed my district partner."

"So did I," I responded.

"B-But... I loved him for some time... Before we talked after the Parade."

"What?"

 _She_ cowered and I realized how vulnerable _she_ was, how easy it would be to snap _her_ neck, but I restrained myself as we enveloped into one last kiss.

"Catocat... Just remember I'll love you even after you end me."

"Kat... Kat... You deserve to go back to your family. I'll die for you, to make up not doing anything earlier to help you survive. You did it all yourself. I was merely a selfish lover."

"So killing Clove, that was me? No, Cato. If there is one thing I want to accept, it's letting me die. Kill me and I will die loving you. Kill yourself, and I will die a heartbeat behind you, hating you." I'm sure _she_ didn't mean the hating part, but _she_ had hit something.

I raised my sword to puncture _her_ stomach as my Academy training kicked in.

 _She_ talked back to me!, the old Cato shouts as it takes over.

 _She's_ my girl, not my victim!

At the last second, I regained control and pointed the tip up to give _her_ a painless death, a smile on her face.

I regret it. But no amount of regretting could bring _her_ back now - although I feel fatigue coming on, and I know we'll be together soon.

*White noise*


	3. Nightlock

It's obvious that Katniss doesn't want you here while she's hunting, and you find yourself purposely trying to step on anything crunchy you can find to get her to leave you alone.

Katniss sends you to fetch some berries, annoyed, and you walk away from her feeling satisfied. Trying to keep the eager bounce out of your step, you head into a clearing when a hand lightly touches the small of your back.

Jumping, you see her lovely reddish orange hair, reminding you of the strangely coloured orange you split with her after she snatched it along with other supplies from the Careers.

"You were fast."

"I was stalking you two for a while, stupid," she replies playfully. "And wherever the noise was coming from was where you were, probably trying to annoy her," she states with a smirk, not bothering to hide her disgust for Katniss. "She's just using you. Just watch her play the lovers angle, but she'll break your heart."

Finch suspects that you don't love Katniss but apparently, you're still too stupid to understand how Katniss is playing you. It's gotten on your nerves, frankly. Perhaps it's finally time to tell her...

"Well... I've been playing her, using her also... I like someone else. And I wasn't lying when I said she was here with me," you state, getting straight to the point, failing to keep the colour out of your cheeks.

You aren't sure how she'll receive that, but you're elated, passion and joy radiating off every inch of you when she pulls you into a kiss.

She pulls away after what seems like a mere second but must've been five minutes at least.

"Take me back to Heaven," you mumble drunkenly, and she slaps you across the face teasingly. But then her face turns serious and you sober.

"Peeta... Ever since the time we conversed after interviews, I loved you. Your voice, your smile, and I thought, 'how'd I survive the games like this?' But I know now, I won't. I'm banking on you to survive for me, please."

Your

heart

stops,

shatters,

and

breaks into a billion pieces when you realize what she's telling you.

Then she looks at you hard, her clever green eyes persuading you to understand as she takes the berries you have in your hand.

"If I have to die, it will be of my own accord and with you knowing I love you. Stay alive... for me?"

Haymitch said the same thing, you think.

"We'll find a way we can both survive, Finch."

"Peeta, you know they wouldn't allow it anyways."

And you find yourself memorizing her face to paint one day, a thousand times, from your alliance to now, and instinctively, you grasp her hand.

As she places the nightlock in her mouth, her hand grows colder and colder, her pulse gets slower and slower.

"Peeta, I love you, too."

"I understand now."

"I knew you would."

And her pulse pauses,

hovers for a beat,

and

stops.


	4. Suspense

From his spot on the porch, he can see her, the beautiful white goat with a lovely pink bow as the girl brings her in.

He watches as the oldest one and youngest one then give the goat herbs, salves, things to put on her horrible, shoulder wound as the original girl leaves.

He hasn't forgotten how she tried to drown him.

 _Perhaps she kills, injures animals for fun_ , he thinks. _Perhaps she hates animals in general._

He watches the goat until her thoughts of pain and death go away. He meets her eyes, those intelligent and ever curious brown eyes and they acknowledge each other.

He pads over to her as she goes outside, paws rejoicing in the fluffy grass growing in the Meadow.

 _Who are you?_

She senses the true curiosity, and decides to ignore his bluntness.

 _Prim decided to call me 'Lady'._ She sends him a thought of mild annoyance at the name.

 _Prim?_

 _The youngest girl._

 _Of course. And she calls me 'Buttercup'._

She lets out a bleat that sounds suspiciously like a laugh while sending him a mental smirk.

 _Are you mocking me?_ he demands.

 _Perhaps,_ she remarks slyly.

He gives her a look about as condescending as a cat can look. _You better not be... Or else..._

 _Or else what?_

 _You'll find out..._

 _You know... I've only just met you, but you're terrible at suspense._

 _I'd like to see you try!_

Buttercup senses mild amusement from Lady.

 _Well..._

 _Well what?..._

More amusement and a slight hint of secrecy and a private joke.

 _You didn't get it? Well..._

He coughs the way only a cat can cough. _Water, anyone?_ and sends her another confident smirk.

 _You're very imperceptive, aren't you? Have you been realizing..._

 _Realizing what?!_ He demands in annoyance.

If a goat could snigger...

 _What I've been saying..._

 _Just. Tell. Me._ It looks like Buttercup is angry, but there's something beneath that.

 _I've been leaving you in..._

 _Suspense,_ they finish. Together.

 _I should've known! I really messed up that one, huh?_ Lady senses disappointment and embarrassment, wondering if she'll judge him, and something else, much, much deeper than those surface thoughts, although she cannot place it.

 _Stop trying to perceive my thoughts..._ a lot of embarrassment there.

 _I can't help it if they're radiating off of you!_

More embarrassment.

 _Sorry. It's just that... They're a little bit... Loud,_ she adds, truthfully sorry.

 _Don't let her know, don't let her know..._ Buttercup thinks, albeit a little too loudly.

 _Excuse me?_

Anger directed at himself.

And now she knows, being the perceptive goat she is.

 _Love?_

Mild surprise, but anticipating.

 _Yes, Love. Towards a special goat right next to me._

This is beyond the regularities of embarrassment. This is embarrassment to the fullest.

Yet she feels the same way.

No response is needed.

Instead, Lady simply lies down and nuzzles Buttercup, giving a new meaning to "love at first sight". He licks her in return; merely a cute scene for the prying eyes of The Healer.


	5. Opposites

I hate the Capitol.

I hate the Districts.

I hate the tributes.

I hate everyone except Caesar, including myself. He was the only person who actually saw hope and good in this slum of a world. And I was the exact opposite, but I suppose opposites attract, do they not?

Even though, every year, every time the tributes get interviewed by their host, none of those shallow dolts ever think about him, he still remains himself, pure, untainted, unaffected. Well, not actually. He's changed, even more positively. Because he's just self depreciating, he doesn't get how people, tributes, are terrible, selfish, not thinking about the others who make their shows, glamour, happen.

But seriously, why should they? The District Nine tributes never thought of us when we spent hours, days, weeks, hundreds, thousands, millions of dollars, working on their outfits, paying for them with our own money.

And being partners, we fell in love. Hopelessly. He was perfect in every way, too good for me, his perfect speech and eloquence, perfect handsome looks, perfect smile and charm, always giving himself to me. Whereas I was the exact opposite of him. Pessimistic, not a single social skill to save my life, ugly, grimaced all the time, egoistic, arrogant and selfish. I had become who I hated, but it's only expected that I'm a hypocrite. At least I acknowledge it, though.

That final day just proved my worthlessness.

I still remember our screams, his for fear of me, and mine for fear of myself. Always the selfish one.

It haunts my nightmares, the Gamemakers and President Snow casually walking into his suite on official business when they found me. With him. In the middle of a kiss.

Talk about bad luck.

And naturally a couple hours, minutes later, I was "relieved" of my "burden" as a stylist and sent to live in the "comforts" of the Capitol. Basically saying that I was fired from my stylist job and sent to live in the Capitol, where my history would be filed in my microchip so no one would hire me. Oh, the joy of being lied to.

But Caesar got off a lot worse, taking most of the blame for that. Stupid, always too good and selfless. He was "promoted" from stylist to host of the games, and would interview each tribute before the games.

They knew our weaknesses. Mine was to be isolated; Caesar's was for people he knew to get hurt. And they knew that he would hurt when he got to know all 24 tributes, but only one would live.

They made me get alterations to have a "fresh start", or to basically forget about Caesar. And I, being the rebellious woman I was back then, went all out.

Tigris equals tiger, tigress.

So I got many plastic surgeries to look like a tiger. And so I'd never be alone, all the black stripes were made out of the repeating name in tiny lettering; Caesar Flickerman. The man I love.


	6. More Than Just Buddies

"Yes, Sweetheart, that's more like it," Haymitch says out loud, ignoring the curious glances of Cinna, Portia, and Effie. "That broth went to good use."

"I sure am glad," Effie replies sarcastically as Haymitch raises an eyebrow at her tone.

"A waste of sponsors," Portia interrupts with a wave of her hand.

Haymitch waits patiently for Cinna's negative comment, which never comes. With a knowing smirk on his face, he dismisses the concerns. "Sponsors are flowing in, thanks to him," he gestures to Cinna.

"No thanks is needed. My work is my passion," he returns. "You're the real mastermind behind this."

He raises a glass. "To Haymitch," which is returned with a chorus of "To Haymitchs" and the clinking of glasses and sipped wine.

Haymitch's mouth curls up into a smile at the first taste of wine, and orders an avox to refill the glass, which she does willingly and obediently.

Cinna, Effie and Portia watch seemingly disdainfully as Haymitch's state quickly deteriorates. "We hadn't kept him sober for that long with wine at the table since... Never," Cinna says dryly. "Knew it wouldn't last."

The mentor's face has turned red by now and he stumbles and slurs, "I'll be going to bed now," tripping over his own feet as Portia bursts into laughter. Effie tries to hide her giggles with a delicate hand but fails spectacularly.

Cinna decides to go after him, carefully supporting him with a steady hand as he leads and lays Haymitch onto his bed. As Cinna is about to head out, a steely voice interjects. "Stay."

Shocked, Cinna still remains his calm composure and closes the door, all too aware of the others just a hallway across.

"You're not drunk." A statement, not a question.

"So everyone has been convinced," he replies with a wry smile.

"Except me," he pauses, soaking it up, "But you damn good convinced everyone else."

"I'm a fricking good actor, if I do say so myself, ain't I?"

"Why did you decide to tell me tonight?"

"You're the closest. So you can tell her one day. She'd never believe me if I said it, and she's too stupid to realize that I favor her over that brawny guy she came with. Besides, it'd be too embarrassing." Haymitch replied easily. Too easily.

No way it's all about the relationship between Katniss and I. And he never tells the truth entirely the first time people ask him... Cinna thinks.

"Really?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

Haymitch sighs. "Okay, okay, fine. It's just that I needed to tell you... I'm trusting you with this."

"Why?" He asks, but already knows.

"Someone needs to know that this is all for show, and help make this even more realistic. It'll prevent the Capitol from perceiving us as a threat. Just an alcoholic and his buddy."

Cinna replies, making the mood lighter, "Even though we just met a year or so ago, wouldn't I count as more than just a buddy, after everything we've shared?"


	7. Strategizing

"So, how did you do?"

"Pretty well, you?"

"I did well enough to deserve the best score," you reply, and grin and tilt your head cockily to the side. "Better than you, at least."

Marvel raises his eyebrow back at you. "We'll just have to wait and see... After all, I am brilliant with the spears... Which are obviously harder than knives."

Offended at his underestimation of your skills and the difficulty of knives, you charge forward, face tight with fury, but with a thin sheen of playfulness underneath.

Marvel notices, one of the reasons why you love being around him so much, and grins back before lifting you up the ground and swinging you to the side, finally placing you down delicately.

You then ask, "So, the plan to break up the alliance is on?"

He nods. "Yes, do you need me to go over it?"

Shaking your head no, you reply lightly, "I have eidetic memory, you forgetful boy."

"And you'll never let me forget it," he grins sheepishly.

Feeling slightly bad, you reply, "Okay, let's go over it just in case. So, we invite the third highest scoring Non-Volunteered tribute to our pack to cause chaos within the order. Then we hunt down the highest and second highest scoring non-Career tribute, and kill them and their allies, if they have any. Then, we'll kill Cato and Glimmer in their sleep, along with anyone else in our Career pack, and we'll be unstoppable."

He smirks proudly. "None of them'll stand a chance. I know Glimmer from the Academy, and the only reason why she was chosen was because she knew people... And bribed her way to Chosen Volunteer only a girl can do... If you know what I mean. She's not even good."

"And Cato's dumb as a rock as well," you interrupt. "As long as you don't insult him directly, you'll be fine and he won't notice. And the Four tributes? They're weaklings, and we don't need to worry about them."

"What about Twelve?"

"Twelve?" you reply. "Those tributes are shallow dolts, I mean there was no meaning or anything in their costume parade."

Marvel agrees, "Anyways, the costumes don't really matter, I mean it's only the stylists. Did you even see that _hideous_ outfit I had to wear? Ugly as hell... If hell was hot pink."

"Do you want to hear your score or not? Shush!"

"Marvel, 9"

" _Only a NINE?_ I deserved a Ten!"

You slap him playfully and giggle a little. "I'll beat you for sure!"

"Glimmer, 8"

"Hm, not bad. I actually wonder what she did..." you tell a still fuming Marvel

"Cato, 10"

You both look at each other.

 _A threat? He got higher than me..._

 _No way, he's an idiot,_ you send back.

"My score's coming up... Now!"

"Clove, 10"

"Right on time," you reply. "Tied for first!"

"Dang, Clove, they must've been really impressed."

"Of course they were! I'm amazing!" you pause for a second, adding, "But you are too."


	8. Denial

"Yes?" she asks you, fluttering her eyebrows.

Silently, you cringe inside. Just because she's blonde and from District 1 doesn't mean that she's attractive.

Fine, you admit, she's somewhat pretty, just not your type. Raising your sword at her, ready to strike in answer to her stupid question, she then interrupts, "But Thresh!" making you drop the sword, it really is a weight to carry, leaving you vulnerable.

 _Vulnerable? To this naive female, who has yet to seem struggles and battles for freedom like you have? To this mere girl, who you can probably pick up with only one arm? To this glimmer of a person, who acts on impulse, easy to catch off guard?_ You are not vulnerable to her, and you know that.

"You're such a handsome man..." she elaborates.

 _Bullshit,_ you think.

"With such good morals as well, why would you kill an innocent bimbo like me?"

 _What the heck is she trying to pull?_ Staring at her coldly to cause the mood to turn hostile, you return, "Stop."

 _But what if she's being for real? What if she's actually not manipulating you?_

Casting your thoughts away, you stare down at her some more until you realize, from Glimmer's perspective, it seems like you're staring down her shirt. And she likes it, from the way she's smiling coyly up to you.

 _There's no way she could be faking that. Or is she?_ You've seen the way she acted at the interviews, knew she was faking the love towards Caesar, but couldn't help wondering if it were real or not.

 _No one's going to judge you, so admit it, she likes you but you don't like her._

 _I sure as hell am not going to admit something that isn't true._

"I know you're faking it, and I just want to let you know that I ain't gonna fall for it," you say to her bluntly. "Haven't gotten my guard down at all."

"Or have I?" something about the way she's smiling makes you wary. Like she has a secret, or inside joke.

"Nope."

She bends over, letting you see her behind, and you start to chuckle. "Who do you think you are, to flirt with me?"

"Off your guard again, I suppose, you hypocrite."

She quickly stands up, your sword in her hands. She's not struggling to hold it, surprisingly.

 _Crap_.

You know you're dead, but you have to try.

Try to punch her, but she's too fast.

Try to lift her, but she's too evasive, now a huge gash across your back.

"Could've done worse!" she exclaims.

 _She is crazy_ , you think.

"But where's the fun in that? You love me like this, don't you, you crazy District Eleveners?"

Trying to get one's attention is one of the main signs of a crush, you know. And there's no better way to get your attention than by besting you.

But you will show her what happens during one-sided love, especially during The Hunger Games.

She will get _denied_.


	9. Conflicted

She has failed him.

Portia has failed President Snow.

She was his spy, his little inside mole, to report back to him about her tributes' behavior, along with her stylist partner, Cinna. Snow had suspected something about him, something that was off, and had assigned Portia there.

But she has to be executed now with the rest of the rebels, for being a failure, as Cinna has realized who she really is. But Snow still feels a little wary about this. Something not right, perhaps a little strand of light not usually there, one that he identifies as mercy, to be tugging on his sleeve, preventing him from killing her outright.

Snow thinks that maybe it's the cologne that's overpowering his brain. And after he takes a nice, warm, hot bath, and is more warmed up that usual, he muses it over. The feeling feels strangely familiar, back to when he actually... /loved/. Yes, he identifies the feeling as love. But he prevents himself from loving, he's the President of Panem, and has a rebellion to crush and worry about. Love will only make him weak and unfit to lead. The only thing to do would be to deny and ignore, that's what.

But what should he do with her? She should be executed. To not do so would be weak and foolish. It would show that the others in his espionage branch that he is weak and cannot take care of failures, that he is scared to do so. President Snow, scared? They have no idea how scared he always is, about the Rebellion, about Panem, about the districts, the Hunger Games and especially himself. Is he descending into madness? Maybe a little bit of comfort, a little bit of someone he actually wants, he lusts for, he likes, would be good for him and his sanity.

So he does the thing that could either shatter his world or fix it. It does both. He calls in Portia. His best spy, actually known as Sempronia, but that's not relevant.

He decides to be straightforward and blunt, not caring what she thinks. If she refuses, he'll threaten her with death, or at least that's what he thinks. But really, is he? No, no definite way he is going to kill her, not at this point, not when his feelings about her are this deep, and out in the open.

She comes in, ever so gracefully, putting on that razor-sharp smile that can caution the bravest of souls to stay away. That's why he likes her. She plays her part always so well, while still retaining herself to him. That deadly, don't mess with me type of person is just who he needs to rule by his side with an iron fist, to set the example of what his caliber is.

Is Snow really thinking she's going to rule by his side? He thinks he must be going mad, to share his power with another person. Or maybe it's just love.


	10. Eternal Peace

The bombs are coming.

They're coming for us. Because of Katniss, who I foolishly gave my pin to, for starting this rebellion. She thinks she's so high and mighty, for being this "Mockingjay", the spark, whereas I should get at least some, if not all the credit for giving her the pin. And then she had the gall to think that Peeta was referring to her when he said that his lover came here with him.

He was talking about the pin, a piece of me, not the self-centered monstrosity of Katniss! Me, always in the background. But when Flickerman thought that he was talking about Katniss, she had to be her usual bitchy self. Peeta's too clever to deny that huge advantage, though, and played it all the way through, successfully.

But now he's finally here, with me. Never mind the the loud hum of the planes above, sealing my death sentence. I'm thankful The Capitol mistook his older brother for him and took him instead. Maybe that's not the right way to think, but Crosty was awful, always trying to have us do some... things.

But that's not how our relationship works. We're not the touchy types like Katniss. We're more chatty, and this silence, while comfortable, just feels wrong. Different. Maybe it's just the tension in the air, the fright, that we have only the smallest chance of surviving this attack.

Fine, I'm too optimistic. We have no chance of surviving. They've already taken out my father, and mother, just because we were the Mayor and his family when Katniss rebelled. I stole away and hid, but I was too late for my family. She's taken everything from me. My family, my pin, my honour, and now, my life. At least she doesn't have Peeta. He's the only thing I have now.

"You alright?"

"As good as it gets, waiting for Death."

"Don't be that pessimistic. We're together, and that's what counts."

As soon as he says that, it's almost like a trigger for all things bad.

It's just the whistling of a bomb, and a loud noise. Too much for my ears to handle, and the entire world tips over, rotating, a whirlwind. Pain everlasting.

And when it all clears, there's now an emptiness. The emptiness comes from inside, from the spot next to me.

Peeta.

Where his legs were, is now a huge block of stone from the wall. His body crushed and bleeding. Dragging myself the two feet over to him, wincing, I just barely hear his words.

"Madge... I just need to reiterate this. I love you. Just remember- " his voice stops and I know it will never speak again.

Caressing his face, ignoring the pain from the inside and out, I'm about to protest as Death comes my way. But I realize what this means. We can be together now, in the afterlife, as it frees our souls from our bodies. Floating away, I see our bodies together, in eternal peace.


	11. Paranoia

_So I kicked Boggs in the face, what's wrong?_

 **"Yes, Gale did do this, Alma..." -but in some twisted way he had a right to, is what I don't say.**

 _He deserved that kick._

 **"You have my permission to rid him," she tells me. But I just shrug. Gale just doesn't get that I'm not loyal to Coin. He doesn't get that I'd betray her in a heartbeat but I have to keep this up.**

 _On the off chance that he isn't already talking to Coin and planning my demise, he still deserved it. Fine, maybe not. I might be being unfair to him, but isn't that how Panem works?_

 **I leave the room to mull this over. I sort of have to admire him for what he did, standing up to me. I'm not sure I have the courage to stand up to Coin like that... yet. But my nose still throbs. Damn, he kicks hard.**

 _Now I feel guilty about this. It's now my fault that his nose is broken. Thankfully, I didn't kick that hard. He should be fine in a couple days. It's already been two, and I think he's out of the hospital wing already._

 **Well I'm grateful that it's basically almost healed right now. But this is now a difficult situation. Alma wants a good excuse to kill Gale, but I don't want him dead. It's a weird thing. The dinner bell rings, interrupting my thoughts, and I leave for dinner.**

 _I know Boggs probably wants me dead right now, but Coin likes me, I'm pretty sure of that. At least more than some others. I make my way to the dining hall, waving to Katniss as I pass her._

 **As I near the hall, someone bumps into me. Gale.**

 _I'm close to the room when a large figure I strangely recognize crashes into me. Boggs. I take a step back but feel like that's wrong, so I resume my original position. I don't think I'm scared to fight back, but some guilt seeps into me as I take in the bandage on his nose._

 **I see his eyes stray to the gauze where he kicked me, and can tell he's guilty. "Hey, I respect you for that."**

 _I'm shocked. He respects me for fighting dirty?_

 **"For playing dirty, that's right. Sometimes, you have to do what you have to do."**

 _"Is this some sort of mind trick?" I lean in closer and whisper, "Is this your form of payback?"_

 **As I hear what he whispers to me, I feel myself smile, and I'm now laughing, despite the pain in my nose at his suspicion and how utterly paranoid he is.**

 _I'm extremely surprised now, but I can't keep from laughing either. It's silly, how tightly I'm wounded. I just need to let this out._

 **Some people are looking at us funny, but I don't really care. Until Alma comes around. "What are you two doing? Boggs, we need to talk..." she trails off.**


	12. Choices

Ten years after you won the 74th Hunger Games with Peeta, during a brief trip to the Capitol, you meet someone.

A very old someone, changed in many ways, his once energetic self now morose. _But Caesar Flickerman is still alive._

"Flickerman," you say, unsure. After all, you were sure that he had died during the rebellion, but you're sort of glad that he didn't; that's one less person, even if a Capitolite, dead.

"And our lovely Katniss Everdeen."

You aren't sure if he's trying to mock you or not, and don't want to risk asking. "How did you survive?" you ask instead, wanting to keep his attention focused on you.

"Why don't we talk in my apartment, Miss Everdeen," he replies, walking with you to a modern-looking apartment building. Well, as modern as a building could be only a few years after the rebellion.

Struggling to keep up with his long strides, you repeat, "How?"

Both of you enter the elevator and he presses the button to the eighth floor. "Luck, and you."

"Me?"

"Yes. Well, as hope, of course."

You frown. "Are you suggesting something?"

"Hm?" He asks, feigning disinterest, but you're pretty sure his mind is on something, rather, someone else. You've spent enough time around both Peeta and Gale to know.

You follow him as the elevator doors open and go into his apartment. "You play the trumpet?" you ask, surprised.

"What did you think I do in my free time, Miss Everdeen?"

"Please, call me Katniss." But you weren't sure what he did in his free time, and now, you look around the living room, at the trumpet box in the corner (you only know that because Peeta wanted to learn, but you vetoed it, ha!), and at the feathery couch.

He notices you eyeing his couch. "It's a very comfortable couch, you know," he takes that suggestive tone again, and you feel your cheeks begin to blush.

"No, thank you. It seems a little... too... feathery." Realizing that you've let him steer the conversation, you try to get it back on track. "How are you alive?"

He merely shrugs. "Hope and desire for someone, who I think feels it back." He winks, some of his old energetic personality and charisma coming back.

You glare at him automatically, but it seems to pass straight through, as he's too busy looking you over to care. You're disgusted, he's at least twenty years older than you!

"You do realize that you can get rid of it all. Of all the pressure that Peeta's putting on you, the pressure to have children."

Your face turns red, sure he's implying _that_. "Let's not talk about that, Caesar," you state firmly, wanting to stand your ground. You love Peeta... right?

He smiles, almost reading your thoughts. "So I thought... You don't like Peeta. Katniss, you were only forced to like him, I'm giving you a choice, a way out."

"I'll think about it," you say, but you're basically already sold.


	13. Mirrors

Cato will kill you when he finds out what happened. After all you two went through, he's still having his issues. Add the fact that Clove hates your District Three guts, as she's clearly jealous, and you have a serious problem, all centered around you.

So the easy thing would be just to kill yourself before Cato finds out that your mines backfired (and destroyed almost all the supplies) and tortures you, like any sensible Career would. But the relationship between you and Cato is definitely not sensible... and the rest of the pack knows it, from the second you got accepted.

Not because of your skills in technology - You barely know how many Bytes are in a Giga - but more possibly towards Cato's clear attraction towards you.

To be honest, you weren't so sure of it first either, but after that conversation behind the sword rack and you came this close to kissing, no matter how reckless, you made up your mind and Cato made up his. Truthfully, you both knew it was such a bad and reckless idea, to start romance anew before a death match, but who better to do bad and reckless than two male tributes, one who volunteered, and one who deserved it?

You so deserved to go into the Games for what you'd done, for the act of treason and betrayal you cast upon your family and district, along with the Capitol. The Gamemakers must have known about it, but they still let you rig up the mines, quite easily, you noticed. But failed to notice it was too easy, that it was just way too easy to do something that would have taken a complex knowledge of technology you just didn't have, despite living in the "technology district". Stereotypes kill, don't they?

They must have been laughing in their white-walled rooms, as if you were a joke, and the thought of it angers you so much, for a second, you potentially had the power to kill Cato himself. Angered and thinking that Cato was the fault of all this, from you joining the Career pack. Blaming lessens the pain.

And the footsteps come, heavy and slow. Only one person, and you're absolutely sure who. The coming and going to your tribute suite every night drilled that sound into your head. But despite previous love, he will not leave you alive, you know that.

But still, you hope. You don't hope to win, you don't hope to live. That was never an option from the start. But how will you die?

Hopefully, it will be painless.

Hopefully, it will be easy, like sliding into sleep.

And you can feel the anger rolling off of him, but underneath that, it's betrayal.

Yet it mirrors your own. Just two boys, playing with fire, surprised to find it burns.

It's quick, at least. Physically painless, but emotionally painful. Disbelief, but understanding.

And Death is generous and takes you away from your demon, your mirror, quickly.


End file.
